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User blog:Driftwillow/Throwback Tuesday
The prologue of my Warriors story, written a year ago. Enjoy! PROLOGUE In a vast, moonlit clearing gathered hundreds of clan cats. Warriors engaged in friendly conversation, while young apprentices compared battle moves and elders shared vivid stories of their youth. A handsome black tom atop the fallen pine waved his tail abruptly to silence the many cats. “The Gathering has begun.” DawnClan’s leader, a pale tabby she-cat, advanced to the suspended roots after a gracious nod from the sleek-pelted black tom. “DawnClan is well. StarClan has been generous towards us, and prey is bountiful.” Once she had given her dignified report, she returned to the robust base of the pine among the other clan leaders. FireClan's ancient leader, a ragged white-and-gray tom, ambled leisurely downward the broad body of the tree until he also stood many fox-lengths above the Gathering upon the aged, gnarly roots. His dull glare drifted irritability across the clans; many cats believed he had become disdainful and sensitive in his old age. “FireClan prey has as well been plentiful.” He paused, glaring bitterly upon the Gathering. “We have also increased our border patrols recently. Any unwanted visitors will not be welcomed.” With an irritated flick of his mangy tail, he returned in silence to the opposing leaders. Threatening gray clouds drifted ominously across the moon, though no cat noticed. Unnerved by the old leader’s threat, a long-furred, bright ginger tom sauntered proudly down the gnarly body of the ancient pine. “BreezeClan, too, has experienced fine hunting in our territory. Also, Dovepelt, a young queen, delivered four beautiful kits only a quarter-moon ago.” Murmurs of brief congratulations issued across the vast clearing. Still no cat noticed the moon, thickly enwreathed with unfriendly black clouds. A strange tensity flooded the air, a strong apprehension, as the black tom protruded along the fallen pine. An aggressive wind whipped the surrounding forest in an eerie manner. Alarmed, the Gathering exchanged fearful murmurs. The black tom, however, did not appear afraid. “CloudClan, also, is faring well. We-” A horrific jag of lightning split the sky, striking the great oak. The tree burst into flames- red, hungry, leaping flames- preparing to kill. Sparks and thick smoke ascended. Dreadful gasps issued. Violent winds swept the Gathering. The great oak, weakened under the ferocity of the spitting flames, inclined gently toward the ancient leaders’ pine. As the oak inclined further, the three opposing leaders evacuated the endangered pine. The black tom remained. “Ravenstar!” “Ravenstar!” “Ravenstar!” The headstrong leader ignored the persistent cries. ”If StarClan wishes me to burn, the so be it!” the black tom declared over the roaring of the flames. The oak did not tarry longer. With an eerie moan, it collapsed in flames. The moment lingered in peril. The Gathering silenced. A petrifying cry split. “Ravenstar! No! Ravenstar!” A slender pale tabby she-cat, belly swollen with unborn kits, shoved relentlessly through the Gathering. “Ravenstar!” A series of thunder issued. Rain pelted the Gathering and quenched the hungry flames. “Ravenstar! Don’t leave me! Think of our kits!” When the tom did not stir, the queen collapsed into a blood-curdling wail. “Ravenstar! Ravenstar! No! No!” While the remaining leaders struggled in vain to comfort the grieving she-cat, CloudClan’s medicine cat examined the fatal accident silently. Ashes and debris surrounded the crushed leader. This frightened the intellectual she-cat. Her amber eyes flashed ominously. “From the ashes he shall be reborn….but like fire, his ashes shall destroy….” Her ghastly tone and gruesome omen frightened the Gathering further. DawnClan's medicine cat, a young gray tom, consulted the medicine cat in a whisper. “With all due respect, Hollywhisker….what in StarClan does this mean?” The disturbed she-cat replied with hollow meaning. “Only time will tell us, Stormwing….” Category:Blog posts